


Ever After

by QSoC



Category: Howl Series - Diana Wynne Jones, Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 00:21:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11885976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QSoC/pseuds/QSoC
Summary: Sophie worries the curse hasn't really been broken.





	Ever After

Happily Ever After doesn't always mean... _happily_ ever after, Sophie was quick to find out.

Things were fine, of course. More than fine. In fact, things were better than she had ever dared to imagine. Here she was, having found her fortune - and her powers - and having broken not one but two curses in the process. Her sisters were safe and successful in their own dreams and, even though the hat shop was no more, Sophie found she was more than adequate at running a thriving flower shop instead. Howl loved her - she knew he did - and she loved him. That was new, and unexpected, but... good, Sophie knew. It was good.

So why didn't she always feel that way?

It was silly. Objectively, she knew it was silly. She thought back to her life before, how she dreamed of anything other than the dreariness of the hat shop. She'd accepted the duty of the eldest, the need for loyalty and support for her sisters. She'd accepted it, but she didn't have to like it. Duty simply meant being able to push aside those feelings of dread and helplessness and being able to concentrate on the priorities. Martha's homework, Lettie's dress. Fanny needing help with the customers.

She tried to do the same now, in the castle. The hearth needed sweeping, and Michael had a shirt with a hole in the elbow. Calcifer's log pile needed restocking, and heaven knew how Howl could get any work done with his bench so covered in ash. Not to mention the flower shop! No. No time to wallow in pity when there was so much to do! Just think, Sophie told herself, if she was able to do all this as an old woman, there was no reason she couldn't do it now. In fact, she should be able to do it three times as fast!

"Maybe the curse shouldn't have been broken," came the reply, quicker than she could stop it. "Clearly I'm still more of an old woman than a young one."

She talked to Calcifer as she hovered by her chair. Asked if it was possible for curses not to be curses, but to reveal what was really right all along.

"I think... you're thinking of divination, maybe. Revealing the truth. That's Howl's area though. And definitely not a curse."

He'd watched her with suspicion after that, from the edge of the hearth as she wiped down the windows and brushed cobwebs from the rafters. Sophie pretended she couldn't see. She supposed she could ask Lettie about it, but she was busy learning with Ben in Kingsbury, and although Martha would be sure to have a helpful insight, Cesari's was always busy and it was hard to pull her away. And anyway, they were both so happy, they didn't need to hear Sophie's paranoia. No, Sophie needn't go all that way to disturb them. Some fortune to still be the eldest.

She snapped sometimes, anger cracking in her voice as sharp words whipped across the room. She didn't understand why. Poor Michael took it with good will - would sit quietly, slink out to hide and wait for it pass, returning laden with pastries and cream cakes. That somehow made it worse. Guilt bubbled up inside her, turned the sweetness to acid which rolled and swelled. Sophie sat and remembered the curse. Old women were allowed to complain. They had reason to, with their aches and tiredness and lives long-lived - Sophie had everything to look forward to. She worried the curse was more permanent than they thought, the Witch and her Demon more powerful than Howl realised.

As always, Calcifer was there.

"What did it feel like, your curse?" Sophie asked, in the early hours of the morning when she couldn't stay asleep.

"Hmm... It's hard to explain. I was used to being a star. Suddenly I wasn't. I was on the ground and had a heart - it was heavy. It weighed me down, and I was trapped in a fireplace. I had all this power, and life, but... I felt small."

"I see," said Sophie.

"It's ok now though - thanks to you of course! Now I can go wherever I want - freedom is a great thing you know!"

"Of course." She returned to sorting ribbons for the shop.

 

* * *

Howl suited a heart. During the day he'd strut and pose, roll his eyes and smile at Sophie's horror at a new silk cloak.

"Don't worry, my love, it's only your beauty that I'm trying to compete with."

She'd scoff and huff, return to arranging the flowers. He'd pluck a blossom from bucket then, small and pale blue, to slip behind her ear. Smile softly and quietly, lips brushing over red-gold hair, before disappearing into the sun for the morning. He suited the light, was made for cool summer days. Sophie's eyes, used to the shop and the castle, would water with the glare.

At night they'd lay cocooned in the warm and dark and silence.

"It's not a curse," he'd whisper. "You're not under a spell. It's horrid and nasty and can take you over, if you let it. But it's not a curse, else I'd have broken it long ago."

In the morning there would be letters from Kingsbury. From the palace, from courtiers, from Lettie. Everyone knew how Sophie, the powerful witch, had saved the Prince and the Royal Wizard. Had stopped a great demon in its tracks with nothing but her words and her love and fury. They requested her company, her advice. Her presence at the picnic planned for next weekend, it was all planned out, "Martha is bringing more cakes and Fanny promises not to fuss over Howl. Mrs. Fairfax should have her new batch of honey, too, so make sure to bring fresh bread!"

The dew in the grass weighed down the hem of her dress as she collected the flowers each day. She felt the sun on her face, light and warming, soaking into her skin and reaching to her fingertips. Every day was like feeling it anew. She brushed her hands through the leaves, letting them tickle her palms and making her shiver. This was her magic. She may forget occasionally, and fall into old habits, but old women aren't the only ones who can talk to themselves.

"You're not cursed."

She talked life into those who could not see their own.

**Author's Note:**

> *clap emojis* mental! health! issues! aren't! cured! by! falling! in! love!
> 
> (unbeta'd)


End file.
